by Huss, JA
She’s not laughing anymore. She’s screaming. Her legs kicking. Her back twisting. Her hands tied behind her back. Helpless.
And then she’s crying. Sobbing.
Ax is sitting on one of the loveseats with his hand in his pants, jerking off. Lars is leaning up against the wall, arms folded across his chest, wearing a frown.
I bend down and grab Cadee’s hair, make her look at me as they tickle her. “Say stop, Cadee. Say stop and walk away and that’s exactly what will happen.”
She manages to spit at me. “Fuck you.” It hits me on the lips and I wipe it away and just watch her cry as they torture her with tickling.
I just. Watch.
It only takes another minute before she loses control and pisses herself, the dark stain spreading between her legs.
“What the actual motherfucking fuck is going on in here?”
Everything stops—the poking, the wriggling, the laughing, the jerking, the frowning, the watching... and then the only noise left in the Glass House as we all turn to look at Mona Monroe standing in the doorway is the sound of Cadee Hunter’s jerky sobs.
“Fuck you,” Dante says to Mona. “This is none of your business.” He leans down and puts his mouth on Cadee’s nipple, greedily grabbing at her breasts.
Cadee doesn’t move. She just cries on the floor, tears streaming down her already stained cheeks, great heaving, blubbering moans coming out of her mouth.
But Ax does move. He’s up from the loveseat, his foot pulling back—and then he’s kicking the living fuck out of Dante Legosi. He pulls him up off the floor, screaming at him. “Did we tell you to suck her fucking tits? Did we give you permission to put your mouth on our Fugling?”
Ax throws Dante down on the floor, sits on his chest, and starts pummeling his face with both fists.
“You,” Mona roars, “are a bunch of sick fucks!”
Ax is still screaming at Dante. Dante has his hands up to his face.
“Shut up, Mona. Go back outside and wait for us. You’re next.” Then I pull Ax off of Dante and point a finger in his face as he backs up. “Calm down, Ax. Right now.”
Then I turn to look at Mona. Wait for her to tell me to fuck off.
She wants to. Oh, hell, yeah, she wants to.
But she knows what that means. She will be the next target.
We all know Mona doesn’t want to be here. Would do just about anything not to be here. But Mona is here.
And that means she has to be here.
She was put here.
She can’t quit.
I don’t know what will happen to her if she doesn’t cooperate, but it must be something pretty bad if she showed up to play the game in the first place.
She turns her head away and leaves.
Slamming the door behind her so hard, the whole Glass House trembles.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - CADEE
I just lie on the floor while the boys file out of the Glass House. I do not move. Not one inch.
I pissed myself. But it’s OK. That’s why I packed extra clothes. I was ready for them.
Regardless, the tears don’t stop streaming down my face even though I’m not actually crying anymore.
The door slams and the room goes quiet.
“Cadee?” Victor appears. “Are you OK?”
I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and nod. “I will be. It was tickling. That’s all.”
“That’s not all it was and you know it. They were touching you. Dante—” He grits his teeth and stares out the window.
“Well, I gave them permission. Several times. And Ax made Dante pay for breaking the rules.”
“So?” Victor is pissed. I just look away and stare out at the forest beyond the glass walls, embarrassed. “That doesn’t mean anything. He wasn’t mad because Dante was violating you, Cadee. He was angry because—” But he stops. I look back at Victor and find him staring at the door.
My head turns to see what he’s looking at.
Or not what. Who.
“Because why, Victor?” Ax sneers Victor’s name like he just bit into a rotten piece of fruit.
Then he crosses the room and stands just inches from my head. “Tell me why, Victor.” And now he’s snarling.
“Because you’re jealous,” I say.
Ax’s guffaw bounces off the ceiling, that’s how loud it is. “Jealous? Go back to work, Victor. Or you’re gonna find yourself owing a whole lot of back tuition money when you lose your scholarship.”
Victor takes a deep breath. But he doesn’t look at me. And he doesn’t talk back. He just turns on his heel and walks back to the kitchen.
It makes me sick the way these Kings think they own the world.
But Victor makes me sick too. Because he’s too weak to fight back and he’s a six-foot-tall man, for fuck’s sake. He has shoulders just as wide as Ax’s. He could at least… try.
Ax bends down, rolls me onto my side, cuts the rope tying my hands together, and then steps back. “Get up, Cadee. Cooper wants you outside.”
“Why?”
Ax steps around to where Victor was standing and offers me his hand. I stare at it for a moment, then look up and meet his eyes.
He’s breathing heavy. And I’m not sure if that’s because he’s still riled up over the fight with Dante or because I’m the focus of his anger now. “Take my fucking hand, Cadee.”
I take it. And he pulls me to my feet in one swift motion.
Then he looks outside real quick as he absently straightens my shirt. “Don’t worry about Dante. I’m going to take care of it.”
“Don’t do me any favors, Ax. I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing.”
His eyes track down my body and then rest on the dark wet spot between my legs. “Yeah.” He laughs. “I can tell.” He looks back up and I meet his gaze. “Just… leave, Cadee.” He says it softly, almost pleading with me. “You don’t belong here.”
“Why don’t I belong here, Ax? Because you say I don’t? Because you, and Cooper, and Lars are the Kings? You’re not kings, Ax. You’re just a bunch of bullies. And I am not a victim, OK? I’m not. A victim.”
He grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “Listen to me. You don’t want to belong here. There is nothing at High Court for you.”
“Says you.”
He closes his eyes and grinds his teeth, making the muscles in his jaw tighten and relax. “You’re not listening to me.”
“I don’t need your advice, OK? Just fuck off.” I bring my hands up between his arms and crash my wrists against his, breaking his hold on me.
Then I walk away and go outside to see what fresh hell is waiting for me out at the pool.
I step into the hot sunshine and shield my eyes, looking for Cooper or Lars. I find Cooper first, and he points to the outdoor kitchen under a thatched-roof hut. I walk that way and for a minute I figure they’re going to have me cook them something. Which sounds tolerable. I can handle myself in a kitchen. It’ll keep me busy and—
“Cadee,” Cooper says, grabbing my arms as he enters the kitchen space. He drags me over to the sink and points to a pile of plastic bags filled with balloons. “Fill these up.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“What?” I look at him and see the rage on his face.
“It’s only gonna get worse.”
“Yep. Pretty much everyone has made that very clear.”
“I won’t be able to protect you every time.”
“Protect me?” Now I guffaw. Just like Ax did inside. “Is that what you think you’re doing?”
He breathes hard and heavy for a few moments. Just glaring at me with hate. Then he whispers, “It was the best solution at the time.”
“Is that right? The very best one, huh?”
“Did you want to have that baby?”
I point my finger up at his face and my words come out through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare talk about that baby. Ever.”
“I did
what I had to.”
“You’re a fucking coward.”
“You’re a fucking bitch. All you want to do is blame someone and I’m convenient. And that makes you a bitch. Because you refuse to see that I helped you.”
“Helped me?” I literally snort. “Did you just say you helped me?”
“What are we talking about?” Cooper and I both turn at the same time and find Isabella standing behind us. “Hmm? Looks like a pretty heated argument from over here.”
“Isabella, go back to the pool. This is private.”
Isabella does not go back to the pool. She hooks her arm in mine and says, “The Fugling belongs to me. So either you fill me in on what this little argument is about, or I’ll just take her off your hands so you can cool down and relax.”
“She disobeyed me,” Cooper says.
Isabella tsks her tongue. “Fugling, you should apologize to your King.” Then she pats my hand. “You’re not allowed to disobey, sweetie. So get down on your knees and kiss his feet—every single one of those sexy toes.” She giggles and waggles her eyebrows at Cooper. “Remember that time we—”
“Shut up, Isabella.” Cooper looks at me. “Kiss my feet, Cadee. And then get to work.”
“Fug. Ling. How many times do I have to remind you, Christopher?”
I wince. I know I called him Christopher earlier, but he hates that name. And I was doing it to pick a fight.
So Isabella is also trying to pick a fight.
I lower myself to my knees in front of Cooper and settle on the hard, slate floor. Then I lean my head down and kiss his toes. One at a time.
And when I’m done, I look up at him. He says nothing. Just stares at me.
“Good job, Fugling,” Isabella says. “Get up now. Up. Up.”
I stand up and direct my gaze to her instead of him. Because Cooper Valcourt was just looking at me the way he used to.
And Isabella saw it.
I don’t know what they are to each other, but it’s definitely more than nothing. And I don’t need her getting the wrong idea. Or hell, the right idea, either.
She can’t know my secret.
No one can know my secret. It’s bad enough that Cooper knows. I wish I had never told him. Life would’ve been so much easier.
“Fill up the water balloons, Fugling,” Cooper sneers. And then he walks away.
Isabella gaze follows him and so does mine. He whips his t-shirt up over his head and then dives into the pool.
“Mona told me what happened inside, Fugling.”
I look at her and wait.
“It’s only going to get worse.”
I nod.
“You should leave while you still have a chance.”
“I’m not leaving.”
She sighs, but it’s a bored one. “Suit yourself, Fugling. But just in case you haven’t figured it out yet, Cadee”—she slides her mirrored sunglasses down her face and I get a little lost in my own pathetic reflection during her dramatic pause—“no matter how hard you wish, or pray, or hope… things never get better.”
Then she turns and walks away.
“What?” I whisper.
She doesn’t turn back. Just walks over to the pool where Cooper is and sits down on the edge to dangle her feet.
Cooper’s gaze immediately tracks to me. Then he grins, places his hands on either side of Isabella’s hips, pulls himself up from the water, and kisses her on the lips.
Like I care, Cooper
I’m not jealous of Isabella.
Oh, sure. She’s beautiful. She’s got the long blonde hair and green eyes. Her body is perfect, she has good taste in shoes, and she lives in one of the lake mansions.
On the outside, Isabella’s life looks pretty sweet.
But there’s something wrong with her.
Sometimes she doesn’t make any sense. And that last sentence is one example. Because I get it. She just warned me that things were going to get worse.
But I don’t think she was talking about me. No. She was the one wishing, and praying, and hoping for things to get better. Not me.
“Get back to work, Fugling!”
Cooper’s yell snaps me out of my introspection and I realize I was staring at them while I was thinking about Isabella.
I flip him off, then turn my back and do as I’m told.
I spend the next several hours filling up water balloons and by the time anyone comes over to check on my progress, it’s late afternoon, I didn’t get a lunch, and I have amassed a small arsenal of water balloon grenades in two giant plastic tubs.
The person who comes to check on me is Mona. She lingers at the small concrete table to my left, silent.
“What?” I snap.
“Wonder what these are for? Oh, I know. The wet t-shirt contest.”
I glance at her and roll my eyes. “Figures.”
“Right?” She pulls a smoke out of her wild hair and a lighter from her bra and lights it, taking a long, deep draw before blowing out. She’s the only one who isn’t wearing a bikini. She’s wearing coveralls cut into shorts with a white t-shirt over it—all the girls are wearing white t-shirts now.
Just like me.
And all of them have something derogatory written across the front in black marker. Ax’s handiwork. I can tell by the sloppy writing.
While mine says ‘Call me Fugling,’ Mona’s says ‘Call me Bitch Face.’ But the ‘Bitch Face’ part has been scratched out in red marker and an arrow has been added pointing to new words so it reads, ‘Call me anything other than Mona, and I will rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat.’
I laugh unexpectedly when I read that.
Mona chuckles too. Even though the cigarette is hanging between her lips. She takes another drag and blows it out. “I feel for ya, Fugling. You should just leave.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “I’m tired of hearing that. I’m not leaving.”
“Well.” Mona sighs, watching the other pledges as they sit around under thatched-roof cabañas playing Crimes Against Humanity or whatever it’s called. “If I could leave, I’d be gone.” Then she directs her gaze to me and lifts up her sunglasses so I can see her very bloodshot eyes. “And when you get to the end of the summer—and you will, Cadee. You will get there. Because you’re one of those determined go-getters, I can tell—you’re gonna wish you could go back and walk away when you had the chance. Because it really won’t get better.”
“Do you need something, Mona?”
“Nope. Just… visiting.”
“Well, I’m busy here. So…”
“Right. Water balloons. I can’t wait to see how this ends.” Then she laughs, gets up, and walks away.
“Line up!” Selina is clapping her hands at the girls. “Come on! It’s time to get down to business!”
It’s four thirty in the afternoon. They’ve been doing nothing all day except playing at the pool like spoiled rich assholes, and now it’s time to get down to business?
I watch Valentina approach Mona and they have an argument. I can’t hear the exact words, because they are doing the whole whisper-fight thing. But after a few minutes Mona whips her t-shirt over her head, unfastens her coverall clasps, and drops them to the ground. She’s wearing a black bikini underneath. But that’s when things really get interesting. Because all the girls start taking off their shirts. They have their backs turned to me, and the boys, since they are off to my left, so no one gets a peek at anything. But instead of staying that way, they each remove their bikini tops and pull their white t-shirts back on.
Ah. Mona was right. Wet t-shirt contest.
Have fun, pledges.
I glance at the boys and find them leering at the show across the pool, eager to see what comes next.
Part of me is happy that the girls are going to get their due. I got mine. They should get theirs.
But the girls didn’t do anything to me this morning. The boys did. And it doesn’t appear that they have to do anything to win this game.
How’s that fair?
“Cadee!” Cooper calls. Then he winces. “Fugling!” he corrects himself before Isabella can yell at him. “Bring the water balloons over here.”
I dry my hands on my shorts and go to pick up one of the tubs and then fall backwards right on my ass, because that fucking thing is heavy!
Everyone laughs at me. But I don’t care. I get up and try again. But I literally cannot lift this stupid tub.
“I’ll get it,” Lars says. He jogs over to me. “Step back, Cadee. You’re never going to be able to carry them.”
I always did like Lars. He’s definitely the nicest of the three. “Thanks,” I mumble.
But he doesn’t look at me. Just walks off and sets the tub down in front of the girls. Then he comes back and takes the other tub. “Come with me.”
I follow him, even when he veers off to the right to set the tub down in front of the boys. But Cooper’s strong hand darts out to grab my shoulder.
“Ow,” I say, turning on him. “What do you want?”
He narrows his eyes at me. Points to the ground at the top of the deep end. “Stand right here and do not move.”
“Whatever,” I mumble.
“Hear ye, hear ye!” Ax says, his town crier act back for the grand finale. He didn’t swim today. Didn’t even take off his shirt. He’s still wearing his Docs, his stupid wallet chain, and his army-colored cargo shorts. “We have a sinner amongst us! A sinner who needs to be taught a lesson in the town square!” And he looks over his shoulder at me with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Shit,” I mumble.
Cooper is standing next to me. His arms crossed across his bare, muscular chest. And when I glance up at him, he’s grinning.
Ax points to me. “Sin-ner! Sin-ner! Sin-ner!” he chants. And then they are all yelling. He works them up into a frenzy, until their chant is the only thing I hear. Then he suddenly bellows, “Punish her!”
That’s when I realize there’s only one girl in this wet t-shirt contest. And it’s me.
They start throwing the water balloons at me, yelling and screaming like this is the best game ever.
The girls mostly miss. I’m silently thanking my lucky stars that Valentina isn’t taking part in the battle. Because she can throw. She played baseball with the boys as a teenager.